Lies of Lillian
by GODDAM.DUCKS
Summary: Nehemia Ytger came to Rifthold prepared for a month of torture. Prepared to have to bow to the monster whom Adarlan's subjects called their King. She expected power obsessed ladies and manipulative courtiers, but the one thing she didn't, couldn't, expect was the controversial character of Lady Lillian... A story where we see Nehemia's thoughts on Adarlan's assassin. Set in CH27.


Nehemia, to say the least, was utterly sick and tired of Rifthold. She was sick of the ridiculous glass palace that she was forced to sleep in. She was sick of man whom Adarlan's people call their King. She was sick of the people too – the power obsessed ladies that she had to sit next to during court. All those women… they had no real worries, and the ones that they did, were sickening ones, like whether the Crown Prince would like the new frilly dress that they had brought. Another person may have envied their so-called 'innocence' and shielded life, but Nehemia only found it revolting. People - _her_ people, were in a living hell in the death camps of Endovier and Calaculla and these ladies contented themselves with fighting over a dress or a man. The worst part of it was that she wasn't even entirely sure that they _knew_ about what was going on in the real world.

Yet, the frustration she felt regarding Adarlan, paled in comparison, when it came to how she had to act. Act as though she's fine with her home and crown being ripped away from her by a man she absolutely loathed. Act as though she was uneducated in the common tongue. Even though it was a perfect way to find out information by listening in on others conversations that they thought she couldn't hear, she despised it.

There were only two things, keeping from leaving - her mission and Lady Lillian. Nehemia was a fighter, had been since birth, and she'd be damned if she abandoned the mission that could finally free her people from the King's clutches. Her country Eyllwe had been fighting for too long. If this war had happened in the past, where magic was free and the King wasn't controlling such a dark force, they would have won by now. But alas, thanks to the King, magic had somehow disappeared and so her country fell, along with many others.

And Lady Lillian… she was a source of calm in this raging battle. The one person in this retched palace who actually understood her, understood her need to fight. While Nehemia hadn't been able to get a full read on Lillian, due to a brick wall she had built around her, those bricks were now crumbling down and the girl Nehemia was starting to see was someone who reflected herself. And that was why, as she stood next to Lillian in the gardens in front of the King's little clock tower, she thanked the Gods for Lillian.

"What's your obsession with these ugly things?" Nehemia asked from beside Lillian, who was once again staring intently at the ebony clock tower and the gargoyles that decorated it.

"Do you think they move?"

Such a dangerous question to ask. She was implying that she thought magic was at work, and if Lillian had been speaking to anyone else but her, she could be in deep trouble.

For that reason, Nehemia tried to switch the conversation with articulating her words at bit cleaner, "They're made of stone, Lillian."

She loathed lying to those who she cared about, but in this case, telling the truth would have probably made the situation even worse.

"Oh!" Lillian exclaimed, smiling. " That was very good! One lesson and you're already putting me to shame!" Nehemia snickered quietly in her head. Unfortunately the same certainly could not be said for Lillian's Eyllwe.

"They do look wicked," Nehemia said trying to convince her friend that whatever qualms she had about the gargoyles were simply just a figment of her imagination.

"And I'm afraid the Wrydmarks don't help," Nehemia watched her glance at the magical runes that were scattered around the garden, and felt a pang of rare annoyance towards her newfound friend

Why? Why was Lillian so obsessed with the Wrydmarks? She couldn't – wouldn't – believe that Lillian was one of the king's lackeys sent to exploit Nehemiah's secrets, she was too…herself for that. And yet, she was so tightly intertwined with the Prince and the Captain, that being under orders of the King would make complete sense.

"So, you truly can't read these?" Lillian was toeing a fine line. Nehemia thought she had made it perfectly clear that she didn't know the slightest about the all too powerful Wrydmarks. She knew she was wrongly deceiving her friend, but if information about what these marks could do got back to the King… Nehemia involuntarily shuddered. If the King found about the power the marks held, how they could open portals between worlds, and how you could control the beasts that came through, she didn't doubt that all hell would break loose.

"No," Nehemia said curtly, walking away from Lillian so that she wouldn't see the look of disdain that was surely on her face. Her patience was waning thin. "And you shouldn't try to discover what they say. Nothing good will come of it."

Soft footsteps, almost impossible to hear, sounded behind her, alerting her of Lillian's presence. "You look troubled," she said once the lady had reached her, in hopes of finally changing the conversation.

"I'm fine," Lillian said flashing her a smile that looked oddly fake. "I just don't like winter."

What a strange sentence. For someone who had lived through Adarlan's winters, for what she guessed was many years, Nehemia would have thought that Lillian should have been accustomed to it by now.

"I've never seen snow. I wonder how long the novelty will last."

"Hopefully long enough for you not to mind the drafty corridors, freezing mornings, and days without sunshine."

Nehemia laughed. "You should come to Eyllwe with me when I return - and make sure you stay long enough to experience one of our blistering summers." Something flickered across Lillian's face as she spoke. Recognition? Understanding? But what would Lillian know of Eyllwe?

"I'd like to see Eyllwe very much."

Nehemia studied her for a moment, weighing the risks of saying yes and the consequences of saying no. To invite someone who was part of her enemies court back to her home could ruin everything, but…Lillian was different, and in so many ways. No question about it. "Then it shall be so."

An almost instantaneous change came over Lillian. Her eyes brightened and her face relaxed into a smile. A smile so real that Nehemia couldn't help but wonder whether all the other ones she had seem before had been an act, fakes.

"I wonder if Chaol sorted through the mess of that murder," Lillian said absently, looking up towards the sky with a faraway look on her face.

"My bodyguards say he was… very violently killed." Nehemia had heard of the mysterious murders that had been circulating the palace, but neither her bodyguards or anyone else would tell her specific details of the deaths.

"To say the least." At that sentence murmured by Lillian, Nehemia whipped her head around to her so fast that all her blood rushed to her head, making her feel weak. She saw the body? Who on earth was this girl that she had the Captain of the Royal Guard following her around, and the ability to know about the highly classified murders in the palace?

"You saw the body? My guards weren't allowed close enough."

"I'm sure you don't want to know the details." Nehemia silently scoffed. She had been waiting forever for someone to slip up and tell her what in hell was going on.

"Indulge me?"

"Well," Lillian started looking uncomfortable. "There was blood smeared everywhere. On the walls, on the floor…"

"Smeared…not splattered?" Things were not looking good.

"I think so. Like someone had rubbed it on there. There were a few of those Wrydmarks painted, but most had been rubbed away. And the man's body was missing its vital organs – like someone had split him open from neck to naval, and - I'm sorry, you look like you're going to be ill. I shouldn't have said anything."

Nehemia didn't doubt that she looked ill, she sure felt it, but not for the reason that Lillian thought. Everything that she had described – the Wrydmarks, the missing organs – it all linked to dark rituals that she had learned to recognize as a child.

"No. Keep going. What else was missing?"

"His brain. Someone had made a hole in the top of his head, and his brain was gone. And the skin from his face had been ripped off." Nehemia felt as though someone had punched her in the stomach. A ridderak. Someone had open a portal using the Wrydmarks and had let a ridderak in.


End file.
